a prelude

Acrid winds from the past barely flutter past these days. It’s been longer than I can remember stillness such as this. Meditation in the moment comes more easily and more frequently, not always lacking in blackened tinges, but welcome nonetheless. And yet the rudderless voyage remains: the spinning in place, the lack of any one singular focus. I can’t ever tell if this is just my fate or my fatal flaw. The present state is not a bitter complacency such as I’ve tasted before, but still I feel tugs and yanks from deeper, richer corners of my psyche: roiling wells that have been tapped before and bubble over in anticipation of release again.

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  1. I know you didn’t ask for advice, but I think you should talk to liz about these issues. One of you is tall, one is short; one is silent, one is loquacious; one loves the inner world, one the outer; etc. But your sychronicity on existential questions always strikes me. You would probably be a better sounding board for her than me, and she might be good for you too.Or instead of talking about these issues, which is unlikely to happen. You could produce art, either together or in dialogue. Thats my day-dream.

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